


Twenty - One

by notjustmom



Series: The Boys in Sussex [22]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, F/M, M/M, Retirement, Sussex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-15 22:50:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12330429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom





	1. Chapter 1

"There were once..."

"Once upon a time..."

"There is a little village in Sussex. The name is not really important, it may or may not actually exist, it doesn't really matter. What does matter is that there were once two little girls, who lived there and raised bees. Grace was always older, of course she was, because she was born five years before Emily. And Emily was not supposed to live very long, but she - Damn! This shouldn't be this hard," John grumbled in frustration as he threw the pen and legal pad away from him.

Molly squinted over at him as she shaded her eyes from the August sun. "It's personal. It's important to you, to Grace. So, of course it's difficult. Didn't you find writing the blog difficult at times?"

John stood up and picked a nearly ripe apple from the tree and bit into it, almost too sweet; he had never eaten a store bought apple that smelled and tasted like this apple did, and he sat down to eat it slowly before answering her. "Of course, there were times when it was difficult - but most of the time, it was just like writing, I don't know - a fairy tale. He was larger than life, slightly unreal at times - he still is, but... I don't think I could write that now. I know that most of it is rubbish, now that I know him as I do. But this - story, I want it - to be something that means something. Like a story that could be read at bedtime, but more than that. Not sure what I mean. I don't want Emily and Mum to be forgotten, there are very few people left that even knew Emily..."

Molly nodded and stole his apple, humming happily as she took a bite, then handed it back to him, stifling a giggle, then closing her eyes as she chewed it. "God. That's brilliant." She took a breath and let it out slowly, and sat up to look at him properly. "Try to think of yourself as a child listening to the story at night, make a child want to know these two little girls, make them want to ask why and what happened next, make them real, John."

 

"She was always - stubborn. That's what I remember most about her. She was the most determined person I've ever known. There were evenings I was afraid to go home, because I wasn't sure she'd make it through the night. But, she would roll her eyes at me, much like Sherlock does at you, and whisper to me, 'What and deprive you of my sparkling personality?' She'd smile at me, and take my hand in hers, and press it to her lips. It was as if she were making me a promise..."

Grace got up from the kitchen table and looked out the kitchen window. "She wasn't all sweetness and light. She wanted to do more than she could, made her cranky, she could be a right arse, at times, but I could always make her laugh on the days when she was tired of everything..."

"We can take a break, if you want, Mum." John hit the pause button on the camera, and waited.

"I need to go out and sit with her for a bit. No, this is good, John. I want to do this with you, for you and Harry. I want you to know her. She was a lot like Sherlock - she didn't suffer fools easily, spent a lot of time reading - the bookcases in this place - they built them for all of her books - her brothers - they did it for her... they adored her, broke them... I'll be right back."

 

"Emily was like Sherlock?" Molly grinned at him. "Why am I not surprised?"

"They even looked alike, there aren't any colour snaps of her, but in the photos Howard took, she had dark curly hair, and she was thin and - in the enlargements - she had his smile." John shook his head, and laid back into the grass. "I stopped believing in coincidences when I met Sherlock. And I do not believe in ghosts or - but - hell, I don't know, Molly..."

 

"John is reminding me, Em. You were never easy, god there were days - remember the day you broke my nose? We were arguing over something silly, and it was hot, we were sitting on Z's porch, and you made that face, and I could see you ball up your fist... and I dared you. You snorted. And I double dared you - and you hauled back and let me have it and I moved at the same time, and you screamed. Z came running, and you, you were afraid you had permanently damaged me - you held my hand as he reset my nose - that hurt more than what you did. You would love the boys, Em. Sherlock is making it like it was, even better - he found those plans we drew up, and it's as if you are sitting on his shoulder. He - he is so much like you - and he loves John, I don't know, Em, why I was - how I was allowed to come home, if I hadn't opened John's letter -"

"Grace?"

She turned around and Sherlock was looking down at her. "John asked me to call you in for dinner - but I wanted to show you something, before we go in."


	2. Chapter 2

"Greg and I have been -"

Grace finally really looked at him and saw how exhausted he was - it was one of the hotter days since she'd been there and she stopped him gently with her hand. "What have you two done?"

"Look up -"

"What?" She shaded her eyes and looked up into the old tree. "You did it? How - I've been right -"

Greg waved at her, a huge grin on his face, then lowered a rope ladder down to her.

"We are a bit ninja like." Sherlock grinned at her, and Grace rolled her eyes at him, and he laughed. "Honestly, we just woke up from a nap up there, it's brilliant, Grace, the plans you and Em drew up - they are yours, aren't they? None of the drawings are signed - but I - had the feeling they were yours." Grace looked up at the tree then back at him again and was once more reminded of her friend.

"You are very much like her, but you had time to soften your edges." He looked down at his feet shyly and shoved his hands into his pockets. She sighed and kissed his mop of hair, then laughed as she pulled leaves and twigs out of it. "Careful, birds might find that mop of yours an interesting nesting place."

Sherlock laughed out loud again, then smiled at her gently. "Go take a look before it gets dark, needs a bit of cleaning up, but Greg and I bought the stuff we needed last time we were in the village. Wanted it to be a surprise." 

Grace nodded then carefully made her way up the ladder. Greg opened the trap door they had installed and helped her up.

"You did it! I didn't think it could be done - Em was convinced -" She looked around and saw that they had rebuilt the bench she and Emily used to sit on, but they had made it longer and wider...

"We're thinking -" Greg began, before a yawn overtook him and he grinned sheepishly.

"Some pillows -" Grace laughed and sat down with a sigh and looked out over the farm. She realized just how much work had been done in the couple of months that they had been there, and she finally noticed where Sherlock had cleared out an area for the garden she and Em had worked out in their heads, but never set to paper over fifty years earlier. They had found the old bee books in the attic, Emily's grandmother had written up what flowers had been there in her time, even sketched them out - so many ghosts - no, not ghosts, spirits. Sherlock and John had invited them back home. In the spring - Grace was suddenly looking forward to spring for the first time in decades. In the spring the farm would be brilliant - spring had been difficult for Em because it set off her allergies, made life harder for her, but on the good days, they would sit up here, Grace would read to her and - "Thank you, Greg."

Greg shook his head. "I used to build things, as a kid, and I'd forgotten what it's like, I spend so much of my time dealing with the ugliest acts that human beings are capable of, to come here and -" Their eyes met and Grace touched his hand.

"I know. It's -"

"Mum?" John yelled up at her. "It will be dark soon - just be careful up there!"

"Worrywart." Grace muttered with a grin.

"He's always been like that." Greg laughed as he held the ladder steady for her so she could climb down.

 

Sherlock considered the people around the table, Greg and Molly - he hadn't seen them this relaxed and happy since - he couldn't remember; Howard had stopped by after dinner to show John and Grace the latest images he had been able to save, and he was now sitting back watching Grace as he sat with an empty mug of coffee, and Sherlock briefly wondered if he gazed at John with the same undiluted affection. He was glad for the bits of candlelight that lit the kitchen, he knew he was blushing slightly, and even all his time in the sun recently wouldn't explain it away. Grace was dazzling, her dark blue eyes sparkled as she told them another adventure, Howard rolled his eyes and laughed, adding his memory of the day, and John? John was simply luminous. Suddenly John looked over at him and smiled, and Sherlock's heart flipped. After a moment, he got slowly to his feet and yawned. "Sorry, all, even with that nap, I'm beat - Howard, may be in tomorrow to get more supplies, and please, when it's light out you and Phil should come see the tree house, and the photos are brilliant -" he watched John lean over and kiss Grace's cheek then he, too, stood up, made his apologies and reached out for Sherlock's hand. The company wished them a good evening, then went back to sharing their stories, and Sherlock paused for a moment and caught John's eye. John nodded then led him upstairs.

John undressed then stretched out on their sleep tossed bed without a word and waited. There was something in his eyes that told him more than anything he could ever say in any language; and Sherlock had to turn away for a moment and take a breath before he could get his exhausted muscles to do what was required, but finally he managed to get the t shirt over his head and slipped out of his pants and shorts without falling over somehow before he turned back to meet John's gaze. "Damn - "

"Come here, love."

Sherlock fell into bed without an ounce of grace and whimpered as he felt John wrap around him. As tired as he was, he wanted, he needed - and John understood as he took his time, tenderly taking him apart, bit by bit - there was nothing rushed about their lovemaking, and as John kissed Sherlock one last time before he snuggled tightly against him and drifted off to sleep, it seemed to Sherlock they had finally arrived at a place where they didn't have to speak, they didn't have to reassure themselves or one another of their love. It simply was.


	3. Chapter 3

Molly yawned and walked into the kitchen; John was at the table going through the new photos Howard had left for him in the early hours. "Morning."

John glanced up, then looked her over carefully. "Molly, are you alright, everything okay with Munchkin?"

She nodded and sat down across from him, and cleared her throat. "I still have nightmares, from when I helped Sherlock - you know. I never meant to -" She looked away from him and sighed. "I should have - told you, I wanted him to leave you a note, something I could give you..."

"We've never talked about this, have we?" He put the photos safely away, then got out mugs for tea. "If he had, I would have found a way to be with him. He was right about that, if he had told me, let me know that he was still alive, I would have made Mycroft's life hell until he gave it up. You were keeping a promise for a friend. To keep him safe. I know - no, I don't, I honestly don't know how hard it must have been, to be strong enough - he knew he could trust you, because he knew you loved him. As a friend, who could keep a secret. Of course, I wished I could have - it hurt for a long time that he chose to - " The kettle screamed and he poured water over the tea bags. "I know, now, of course why he went about it the way he did..." He brought their mugs over then got out the milk and placed it in front of her then sat down and spoke quietly. "In your place, I hope I would have been able to act as you did, as his friend, at a time when he probably felt he had very few friends, he didn't know just how important he was then, not because of going after Moriarty, but because we loved him - I spent a long time wondering if I had been brave enough to tell him before - if things would have changed." He shook his head and sighed, before continuing. "I have to believe that we are here together now because he was able to leave as he did, I can't -" He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I have come to believe that there is a reason we all ended up here, now - I don't know that we would - be as we are - if the last few years had been any different - I know that sounds crazy -"

Molly smiled gently at him and watched as he tried to pick up his mug. She laid her hand over his, and the trembling stopped. "Not crazy, John. All I know is that I have Greg back in a way I've never known. And it wasn't just getting married, yes, that's part of it, I don't think I'd ever seen him really happy since I've known him, until the last couple of days. He breathes easier, he smiles - he's been coming up with a list of girl names, all starting with M, I think he's up to over a hundred now. I didn't know what he really thought about becoming a father. Of course, he said he was happy, but now - he's singing nursery rhymes that he remembers from his childhood, he's trying to buy up every cutesy pink outfit every night before we go to sleep, I keep reminding him that Munchkin could be a boy and he shakes his head. And he and Sherlock - working on the treehouse together... it feels as if everything we've been through - there was a reason, John." She added milk to her tea and they sat quietly until Sherlock bounded down the stairs.

"Mornin'! Where's your other half?" Sherlock banged on the bedroom door and called out, "Greg! Come on, you got time for a cuppa, then we have to go into town to get more wood - I've got an idea -" Sherlock looked over at John and stopped. "Damn. Almost forgot." He walked over to John and lifted his chin with a single finger and kissed him lightly. "Mornin', John. There's a sketch for a bench - I think it will be perfect for the garden - I'll have to check with Grace about measurements and -" He narrowed his eyes at John, then looked at Molly, and shook his head. "It's very simple, Emily and Grace needed us here - so we came. That's it. End of story. Greg! Hurry up!" He grinned at Molly, then kissed John again and hollered. 'Gert and I will be in the truck!" He grabbed his cap, whistled for Gertrude and flew through the door.

"Damn!" Greg muttered with a grin as he walked into the kitchen. "And I thought he had energy twenty years ago - " He leaned down and gave Molly a kiss, then gazed longingly at the kettle and shook his head. "Gladys usually has something for us - she's one of the few people who honestly can slow him down, and it only takes a plate of gingernuts..."

Sherlock laid on the horn and Greg yelled, "I'm coming, ya git!" He kissed Molly one more time, grabbed his cap from the hook and hummed as he closed the door behind him. 

"See?" Molly laughed as she got up to make toast and put the kettle on again. "Now - let's take a look at these photos again..."

 

" 'This is my favorite book in all the world, though I have never read it.' "* Grace read aloud, then she smiled at Emily's stone. "This is my favorite book, Em, It wasn't written until after - so I didn't get a chance to share it with you. John and Harry love it. It's got duels, and giants and pirates, and a princess - no, it's fine - she's different. No, really, she is a little on blonde side, but she's interesting, just give it a chance, will you? Sherlock and Greg are rebuilding our treehouse, and they made the trap door work. You were right, you always were. Oh, and that garden - that we talked about? The bee garden? Sherlock has a place for it, and he's going to build that bench - yes. I wish you could see it, Em. Oh, alright - story - it takes a while before we get to the adventure bit, but you'll love it. I promise."

 

" 'How is such a thing possible? I'll do my best to explain. As a child, I had simply no interest in books. I hated reading. I was very bad at it...' "*

John sat down quietly next to her in the clover and closed his eyes, and let her voice calm his thoughts as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * from The Princess Bride, by William Goldman


	4. Chapter 4

John startled awake to find Sherlock holding him in his arms. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock shook his head and kissed him lightly. "One afternoon, when I was away, I don't remember exactly where I was, but it was a day much like this one, and I was able to sit and catch my breath. I had a burner phone - 'emergency uses only.' " He intoned Mycroft's exasperated, disappointed voice, and John smiled. "I took it out of my pocket and I was going to call you, just to hear your ridiculous voice mail message, just to hear your voice, but then I thought you might answer, so I called Myc instead. He was annoyed, but talked me down, told me you were fine, you were still going to work, still going to the same place for coffee every morning. It was enough. To know that you were safe. I thought I loved you then, John. I loved the idea of you, the idea I had locked away in my head was enough, because it was all I had. I looked around me, I was in a park, I saw people walking past, holding hands, laughing, then I looked at a bench across from me - an older couple was sitting together, not speaking, or touching, exactly, just sitting, but I knew, somehow I knew that they had known each other a very long time, and they were sure of each other - he got up first and offered her his arm, and she looked up at him, and smiled. She caught me watching them and she winked at me, then took his arm and they walked off. I knew I was going to make it back to you, then - it took me another year. There have been days when I wish I had called you, just to let you know not to worry anymore, I don't know, something -" He brushed a bit of grass from John's hair, then looked out over the pasture, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. "Fall is coming, the leaves are starting to turn a bit - I don't think I spent a lot of time noticing things before we came here, I was too busy trying to think my way out of - to see - to actually see would - not sure if I'm talking rubbish, or -"

John reached a hand up and touched Sherlock's lips, and watched as a smile softened his features.

"Want to see the treehouse?"

"Yes, I'd very much like to see the treehouse."

 

From: jwatson@bliss.uk  
To: hwatson@hcwhome.co.uk

 

Sherlock and Greg are rebuilding the treehouse - I went up today, it's not that high up from the ground, just enough so it feels like you can see forever... it's funny, we haven't been married that long, it will be three months in a week, but we are learning a shorthand, we still talk a lot, but when it comes to our feelings - all I have to do is look at him, and he knows, it's something in his eyes, I don't know precisely what has changed, but, he knows I'm there and he's certain of his place, of his love - of me. It's kind of breathtaking.

 

Harry glanced over at Clara who was smiling at her and she nodded to herself.

 

From: hwatson@hcwhome.co.uk  
To: jwatson@bliss.uk

 

Yeah, kiddo, it is that.

 

She closed her laptop and took her specs off, and waited for Clara to put her book away and snuggle close to her before she switched off the light.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mackenzie, Melissa, Madge... uhm. Not Madge. Madeleine, Matilda..."

"We are not naming our daughter after a tractor! As lovely as she is..."

Greg's chuckled against her shoulder and he sat up. "We've been married for...hmm, four days now, feels like forever."

"Oh really?" Molly narrowed her eyes at him and pulled him back down into a kiss.

"In a good way, forever in a fucking brilliant way. I think you know that, Molly Hooper." He grew quiet for a moment, lay down next to her and took her hand. "Sherlock and I have been talking."

"Uh-oh." Molly teased gently, then bit her lip as he turned to face her.

"I only have a couple more years left in me - at the Met. It's only a matter of time before they will finally have to promote me - and I loathe politics and paperwork, and that's all it is, the higher you go. We have more than enough - I want to raise Munchkin here, Sherlock has offered - I know I should have talked to you - but I - need to stop, Molly. It wasn't just that last case, or Garridebs - I'm tired of it, all of it. I want her to grow up in a safe place, where she can run around and - I don't want to be the person I was before we came here, Molly, if something - it's not that I'm afraid -"

"Yes."

Greg blinked at her for a moment, then whispered, "Yes?"

"Yes." 

"We're working on designs for a house, just a little one - yes. God, I love you, Molly Hooper - will you marry me? Oh, right. We are married. Hmmm, need to do something about rings soon, so I don't forget -"

"Arse." She straddled his legs and he gazed up into her smiling golden eyes.

"Molly -"

"I know, love."

"Miley -"

"Absolutely not!"

"Meghan, Mallory, Mmmmm...."

 

"This afternoon, I offered Greg, him and Molly - I know I should have talked with you first - we have that bedroom - he can't do it anymore, John. You know that - you know how he was when they got here, he doesn't want to go into administration, he's happy, they are happy here, and we have all of this, and wouldn't it be the perfect place -"

"Yes. Of course."

Sherlock smiled up at him and pulled him into a gentle kiss. "I love you, so very much, John Watson. We are drawing up plans for a house, Howard says he's got some guys - and -"

"Shhhh..."

"John..."

 

"Morning, Em. In a few months we will have a little one here. Greg and Molly are going to move here soon... I have spent so much of my life alone, and now, I get to be part of a family again. Not sure I deserve it, Em."

"Course you do, Grace." Sherlock placed a mug of tea in her hands and sat next to her. "None of us are here by accident. I think you know that. I made a promise to John when he was dying in my arms, I swore I would give up the Work and London, and come here, and raise bees and he would finally write something - you are meant to be here, Grace, with us. I never believed in things I can't see or touch, or test, but I'm beginning to learn that some things just are. Coincidences..." He shrugged and looked down at Gertrude who had stretched out in the clover at his feet. "the universe seems to have plans for this place, who am I to argue with the universe?" He kissed Grace's cheek and stood up slowly, smiled gently at her, and walked back to the house, humming as he went.


	6. Chapter 6

"Thank you." Molly hugged Sherlock as Greg packed the bags in the car. "For everything - it will take us some time to get things in order, the real world has little patience for happiness, you know."

Sherlock kissed her hair and shook his head. "You know - I'll never be able to repay... you know."

"That debt has been paid many times over, you know that." She rolled her eyes at him and reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"Don't hesitate to bug Mycroft if he can help with the 'real world.' He still has some serious pull in those kinds of things."

Molly laughed and nodded. "We'll be back soon, I promise."

Greg helped her into the car and closed the door after he was sure she had buckled herself in tightly enough, then turned to face Sherlock. "I'm not sure what - don't do anything dangerous while I'm gone, and I want to help with that bench, so take a break, will you? Thank you."

Sherlock shrugged and grinned at him. "You two deserve to be happy. I'm just glad I can - "

Greg wrapped his arms around him and held on tightly, reminding him of the only other time Greg had embraced him - shortly after his return - he was the only one who had welcomed him back without recriminations, of course he got an earful later, but..."You don't owe me or anyone a damn thing, Sherlock. You are a good man, and don't you dare forget it. Yeah?"

Sherlock blushed fiercely as Greg pulled away, but he nodded and pulled his cap over his eyes. "I, uhm, need to start that other field - if we are going to start that house of yours anytime soon."

Greg raised his own cap, and threw it to him. "You know I can't wear that at work, keep it safe for me, yeah?" He got into the car and waved as he backed out of the driveway. He stopped as Howard was pulling in, and they made their goodbyes, then disappeared from view.

"Sherlock."

"Mornin' Howard, Grace is, hmm, probably reading to Em, or up in the treehouse, not sure."

"I wanted to talk to you, or John, actually. About Grace." Howard looked down and took off his cap. 

Sherlock looked him over and nodded carefully, "Tea?"

"Please?"

Sherlock led him into the kitchen, and hung up the caps, then turned on the kettle, as Howard sat down at the table.

"I want - I mean, that is - it may sound old-fashioned, but I'd like permission to court her."

Sherlock got down two mugs and studied his friend for a moment. "She's - what, in her seventies? So are you - both very much adults -"

"I know, I just don't want to, do anything - you guys mean a lot to us, to everyone, and Grace -"

"I don't think she minds your attention, Howard. I know she's very fond of you and Phil. But I can't speak for her. And I think all John wants for her is her happiness. You seem to make her happy." Sherlock sat down and sighed. "It took me a long time to tell John. Nearly too long. You should tell her how you feel about her, but I'm pretty sure she knows. The Moses clan tends to be a perceptive bunch. You have my blessing if that's what you are looking for, for whatever that's worth." He got up from his seat as the kettle whistled.

Howard grinned at him, and stood up.

"Still need the tea?"

"No, I could use a bit of something stronger, but it's too early in the day. Thank you, Sherlock - for - I never thought this place would come back to life, you brought it back for us - for all of us. So, thank you." He offered Sherlock his hand and Sherlock took it and smiled at him."I did a bit more on the treehouse if you want to see it later." He turned off the kettle, pulled his cap back on, and whistled for Gertrude, who flew down the stairs and out the door after him.


End file.
